Three Brothers
by Illucida
Summary: When Tony was seven, his Hunter parents were killed. John Winchester took him in, and raised him as his own. This is the story of the Winchester's. All four of them. Non-chronological order. NCIS/SPN crossover.
1. Origin

The last thing John Winchester needs is another body to take care of. But glancing at the seven year old asleep in his backseat, John knows that he is the only one who is equipped to take him in.

Vampires. A coven of vampires had taken out the young boy's parents. The DiNozzo's had been renowned for their hunting skills, but after the birth of their son they settled down and stuck to local cases only. After reading about some mysterious deaths in the neighboring town, they simply had to investigate. It was there that John met the DiNozzo couple. Words were exchanged, and the DiNozzo's made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with John.

The DiNozzo's quickly discovered the killers to be a coven of vampires. Quickly, three vampires were destroyed, and after finding no further evidence of more vampires belonging to the coven, the DiNozzo's returned home. John wasn't so sure, and did his own investigating. The DiNozzo's had thought wrong. There were two remaining vampires who badly wanted revenge.

John arrived too late to warn the couple. One vampire had been beheaded, but Anthony and Elizabeth DiNozzo were dead. The other vampire had been moving in on the DiNozzo child when John arrived in time to save him and exact a little revenge of his own.

The idea of leaving the kid to the Foster care system hadn't sat well with John. It made him think of his own two boys, and what would happen to them if he died. It wasn't a pleasant thought. Bobby loved the boys, but John couldn't expect him to take care of Sam and Dean forever.

John scrubbed a hand through his tangled hair. The clock read ten…he was currently in Indiana…which would make it nine in the part of South Dakota that Bobby lived in. Rubbing the exhaustion from his face, John pulled out his cell phone and dialed Bobby.

The phone rang a few times before a gruff voice answered, "You picking the kids up?"

"Yeah. I just passed Indianapolis; I'll be there in the morning. The DiNozzo's are dead. I've taken their son in."

"You think that's the best idea?" John could imagine Bobby raising his brow.

"It's the choice I would have wanted."

"The police are going to be looking for him," Bobby sounded like he thought John was an idiot.

"I'll fake some papers. For all they know, Tony was kidnapped. In a few weeks they'll think he's dead. Nobody will be looking for him."

"If I told you how idiotic this plan of yours is, it wouldn't make a difference would it?"

"Not one bit."

"John, you are the stubbornness son of a—

"'Night, Bobby. And make sure Dean is actually in bed."

John ended the call. He hopes Tony will get along with Dean and Sammy.

Looking at the sleeping boy once more, John can't help but smile wryly. Maybe all of this will turn out just fine.

* * *

Disclaimer: NCIS and Supernatural belong to their respective owners. I own them naught.

Notes: This story will not be in chronological order. The first one is only because it needed to be written to establish the universe. I will be jumping around; and yes, NCIS will be incorporated into the story at some point. Later. When I eventually get around to it. This was inspired by my sister throwing ideas at me while we were out to breakfast.


	2. Pool and Pizza

When you are 12 years old and on Sam Duty with your 10 years old brother, you get bored quickly. Especially when the television in the motel room you are staying in is broken. Of course, Sammy doesn't care. He has a 100 page coloring book to entertain himself with.

Throwing the rubber ball that he got out of the 25 cent vending machine in the motel lobby against the wall, Tony says, "I'm bored."

"Yeah? What do you expect _me_ to do about it?" Dean replies grumpily from the kitchenette.

Huh. He must still be mad that he lost the rock-paper-scissors match. Bacon-cheese burgers are nice and all, but pizza is so much better. It's a shame that Dean doesn't think so.

Failing to catch the ball on the rebound, Tony goes after it. "Why don't we go swimming after dinner?"

"Sammy doesn't know how. And Dad said he should be home tonight," Dean replies, while taking the delicious goodness known as pizza out of the oven.

"So? We can teach Sam—and do you really want to wait around this boring room waiting on Dad? He's probably not going to—

"Shut your mouth Tony. Dad said he'd be here. He'll be here," Dean orders, shooting a glance at Sam, who has stopped coloring in Cinderella's dress.

"Are you two fighting?" Sam asks, a small frown marring his previously happy face.

"Nah, Sammy. Dean's going to cut the pie, and then after dinner we're going swimming," Tony says matter-of-factly.

"Cool!" Sam grins, and practically skips over to the small dining table in the kitchenette.

Tony gets three paper cups out and pours them all milk as Dean slices the pizza. The food is distributed, and Dean and Tony begin to chow down.

"Dean?" Sam is looking at his pizza slice like it's going to start crawling off his place.

"What, Sammy?" Dean sighs.

"It has stuff on it."

"Just pick the sausage off if you don't want it!" Sam has been going through finicky stages lately. Last week he wouldn't eat the cereal bits in the Lucky Charms, and before that he wouldn't eat his SpaghettiO's unless you rinsed off the tomato sauce. Dean was at his wits end.

"But…"

"Here, I'll take your sausage, Sam," Tony picks off the sausage from Sam's pizza, knowing that if things were to continue, Dean would probably blow up.

"Thanks, Tony!" Sam starts devouring his slice with gusto.

Dinner moves on more or less smoothly, and Tony is all but jumping up and down while his brothers change into swimwear. Jeeze, why do they have to be so _slow_?

"You know, if we get caught by the manager, he's probably going to ask to see Dad, right?" Dean points out.

"We're not going to get caught. Plus, I could totally pass for 16. No parents needed then."

Dean snorts, "Dude, you can't even pass for 14. You've barely started puberty."

Tony frowns, but a smile starts to grow. He'll get his revenge in the pool. "C'mon Sammy, let's go."

The three boys make it to the pool in record time. No other people are there, so no cautious adults will pester them with annoying questions like 'Where's your parents?'.

"Cannon ball!" Tony shouts as he jumps into the pool. He is closely followed by Dean, who dives in. They both surface, and Tony holds his arms out, "Jump in, we'll catch you!"

Sam shakes his head, crossing his arms defensively.

"Why not?"

"I'm—I'm scared," he says quickly, ducking his head.

"Sam," Dean says, waiting for his brother to look at him, who after a moment does, "Dad put us in charge of you. Do you think Dad would have done that if he thought you'd be in danger with us?"

"No," Sam says confidently.

"Then what are you scared of?"

Sam bites his lip, before a look of determination crosses his features. Taking a few steps back, he gets a running start before jumping in.

Sam bobs up quickly, arms flailing in panic. Tony laughs, and grabs Sam around the waist, "Relax! I got you, Squirt. Wasn't that fun?"

Sam giggles, and exclaims, "Yes!"

The evening passes, with Sam learning to Doggy Paddle in the shallows and Tony dunking Dean twice. The kids are just getting out of the pool when a familiar rumble fills the air.

"Dad's home!" the boys shout as one.

* * *

Standard Discalimer, and all that jazz.

Notes: Sam is 6, Dean is 10, and Tony is 12 in this adventure. Hope you like! Reviews are appreciated greatly; and thank you for all the alerts, favorites, and comments! :D


	3. For the Future

When John found the letter, he wasn't sure what to think at first. Anger? Pride? All he knows for sure is that Tony applied for Ohio State and got in. But he didn't tell (because he would never ask) John beforehand. And that is probably what hurts the most.

John takes a swig from his bottle of JD, and begins to reread the letter. 'You are accepted into Ohio State University…' The gruff man frowns. Tony had never seemed that interested in school…Why would he now decide to pursue a higher education? The worst part is that John never suspected it. He knows more about the monsters in the dark than what is going on in his own kids' heads.

The door to the room is unlocked, and the opens a crack before John hears Tony say, "Here's a ten, Dean. You and Sammy go get snacks from the lobby. I'm going to get the movie set up."

John thinks he hears a, "Okay. Cheapskate." Before Tony enters and closes the door.

"So, I guess you saw the letter, huh, Dad?" Tony sounds a little wistful.

"Yup," John takes another swig of JD, "Were you planning on telling me, or just letting me know when you left in August?"

"Before you even start, Dad—

"I think you should go," John cuts him off.

Tony is flabbergasted, "Wait a minute. You're not mad?"

"I have no right to order you around; make decisions for you. I'm not your real father."

Tony is silent for a moment, "You've raised me, fed me, clothed me, protected me, and loved me for eleven years. If that's not what being a dad is, I don't know what is. And if you don't feel like I'm a real son-like Sam and Dean are-then I'll just walk out that door right now and never bother you again."

Tony moves to grab his duffle that is lying beside the queen sized bed, but stops as John barks out, "Anthony! That's not what I meant. You are every bit a son to me, just as Sam and Dean are."

"Yeah? Then what _did _you mean then Dad?"

"My fight: trying to find what killed Mary…it's not yours. And I can't expect you to stay or fight with me. She wasn't your mother.

"Your parents were hunters. But they would have given you a choice. I think they'd be real proud of what you want to do."

Tony swallows, "Yeah, well…" he clears his throat, "Thanks, Dad."

"The boys will be back soon. Don't you have a movie to set up?" John gets up from his seat at the desk in the far corner of the room. He corks the bottle of Jack Daniels and places it back in his duffle.

"…Right," Tony gives a small smile, before heading to the TV.

"What did you rent anyway?"

"_Pleasantville_," the boy smirks.

John snorts. Figures the boy would pick that one. Probably knew ahead of time that the letter would be found. Hell, he did leave it in open view.

"…It's not that I want to leave this all behind. I just want to fight evil from another angle."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to be a police officer." Tony drops the bomb.

"A cop? What are you going to Ohio State for then?"

"Academies go through extensive background checks. I can't exactly use my original information or my info as Tony Winchester 'cause of our not so kosher history…so I'm probably going to have to start off fresh. The best way to get through the background check is to have some real information."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Yeah. I just need some help getting papers…"

John laughs, "I'll get you your papers. But as for your last name…you can go as DiNozzo. We'll just get you another social security number. People have the same last name all the time; I doubt anyone will connect you to what happened eleven years ago."

Tony nods, and puts the tape in the VCR. "So, you're not surprised at my choice of work?"

John smirks, "Why look a gift horse in the mouth? I could use someone I can rely on on the other side."

The door opens then, and Sam and Dean enter, arms laden with soda and Funyuns.

"Did you start the movie without us?"

* * *

Standard Disclaimers

Notes: I hope this works. I tried capturing the essence of John. I hope this made sense, and that the characters were believable. Thanks again for the reviews and alerts!


	4. The Impala

Dean is going to kill Tony. He is going to kill him dead.

That is, only if Tony hurt the Impala. Today is Tony's first driving lesson, and Dean is extremely anxious. The Impala is a vision of beauty: sleek paint job, lively welcoming roar, and above all _home_. The thought of Tony driving sends Dean's stomach into knots.

What if the Impala is scratched? Or Tony runs her into something? What is Dad _thinking_, letting Tony drive?

"What's your problem, Dean?" Sam asks from the couch. Dean absently notes that Sam is reading a book. What a nerd.

"Nothing," Dean says in a voice determined to drop the subject.

Sam closes his book, fully focusing on Dean, "Something has to be wrong. You've been staring out the window for the past 20 minutes, and I know there aren't any hot girls out there."

"Just mind your own business, Geek Boy," Dean turns away from the curtains reluctantly and flops down on the couch, remote in hand.

If looks could kill, Dean would probably be filleted.

"It's about the Impala isn't it?"

Dean's eyes dart towards Sam, before flicking back to the television, "Don't know what you're talking about Sammy."

Sam grins triumphantly, "I'm right! You are worried about the Impala."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean sends his best glare Sam's way.

"You know, Dad won't let anything happen; and in two more years, you get to drive her."

Dean continues to watch the T.V., but the tension in his posture seems to have eased a bit. Sam shakes his head, and goes back to reading his book.

Minutes later, the rumble of the Impala can be heard as she drives up. Dean quickly rises from his seat, and is out the door and giving the Impala a once over just as Tony and John are getting out.

"You didn't hurt her, did you?" Dean asks accusingly, while running his hands over the hood of the Impala, looking for scratches and dents.

"Relax, Dean. Tony did just fine." John smiles, clapping a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"What do you think I'd do? Hit something?" Tony grins, finding Dean's anxiety amusing.

"Dude, don't even joke about that."

John laughs, shaking his head, "I'll leave you two to duke it out. No blood, boys."

"Yes, sir," they chorus.

Once John is inside, Tony says, "Dean. Seriously, the car's fine."

"She better be," Dean circles the car. No damage.

Tony sighs, "This isn't just about me driving the Impala, is it?"

Dean looks away, "What are you talking about? What else would it be?"

"You're worried that Dad's going to give her to me."

Dean is silent. Tony grinds his teeth.

"Say something!"

"What is there to say?" Dean snaps, "It's obvious she's going to you. You're the oldest."

"Do you honestly think Dad would do that to you? He knows how much you love that car. You're the one that is right by his side when the Impala needs worked on. Not me."

Dean fidgets, re-crossing his arms. "You really think so?"

"Think what, Dean?"

"That Dad will give her to me."

"Yeah," Tony says softly.

"And you're okay with that?" Dean raises his eyebrow.

"Yeah. The Impala's nice and all, but I want a Corvette," a huge grin covers Tony's face.

Dean smirks, "As if a corvette could ever compare to the Impala."

"Ah, that is where you are wrong, little brother. Allow me to explain to you why the corvette trumps the impala."

"You can try, but this is a fight you can't win, Tony."

The boys enter the motel room, grinning ear to ear.

* * *

Standard Disclaimers

Thank you for all the alerts, favorites, and reviews! I highly appreciate them. If you'd like to comment on anything, or give any suggestions, feel free to leave them in a review. : ) Oh! And **Rowena Prince **wrote a lovely story in the "Three Brothers" universe. Feel free to check it out!


	5. Gone

Paperwork is lame. Throwing paperclips at Kate when she's not looking, however, is fun. Especially when you get rewarded with a Level Four Death Glare. The kind that reminds Tony of the ones he'd get from Sam when he was trying to study. Oh yeah, bugging Kate is tons of fun.

Ping! Too bad. Ricocheted off the computer monitor. But it got the very special agent a glare anyway. And what's this? Do his eyes betray him, or does he see a 'Tony' forming on her lips?

"Tony," Kate bites out.

_Oomph! _Damn. He thought Gibbs was still on his coffee run. Back to work then.

"Sorry, Boss."

"Yep," Gibbs replies in a knowing voice. Is that a twinkle in his eye?

Right. Work. Suppose this is better than field work. Field work means someone's dead. And that's never good, even though it breaks the monotony.

Oh. He's supposed to be typing.

Bzzz. Huh. Tony checks his phone on his desk. Nada. The buzzing noise continues, before "Enter Sandman" begins to play.

Tony's eyes widen. That's his family phone; Dean's ringtone. Dean knows not to call during work. Something bad must be going down.

Getting up from his desk, Tony pulls his phone from his pocket and answers. Kate is shooting him a funny look. Best to take this somewhere private. The bathroom should suffice.

"Dean."

"_Dad's missing."_

Whoa. Their dad…missing? That can't be right. The John Winchester, Hunter Extraordinaire, simply does not go missing.

"You sure?"

"_Do you seriously think I'd be calling if I wasn't sure?"_

"That may be…but this is Dad we're talking about. You sure he's just not out celebrating?"

"_He'd never be gone this long. As Sam would probably put it, even 'Jim, Jack, and Jose' couldn't keep him this long."_

"What are you going to do?"

"_I'm going to recruit Sammy. Dad went missing in Jericho. That's not too far from Palo Alto."_

"Good luck with that. Keep me posted."

"_Okay."_

It would be three days until the Winchester world got turned upside down. It would be another week until Tony heard from Dean.

Sitting in his apartment, it was hard not to keep staring at the phone. Surely Dean would have called him if something happened. Tony just hopes that when he does get a call, it won't be for the worst.

Bzzz. Tony snatched up the phone in an instant.

"Talk to me."

"_Dad's gone underground. And the demon's back."_

"What?"

"_Sam's girlfriend Jess was killed by the same thing that killed our mom. We're still trying to find Dad…but I don't know how that's going to go. He's left us coordinates…"_

"That's so typical of him! Why can't he ever be upfront about things?" John can be a real ass. That's probably why his enemies and allies want to fill him full of buckshot.

"'_Cause he's Dad. Anyway, Sam and I are on the trail. Hopefully we'll find him soon."_

"I'm sorry that I can't be there. I'll try to put in for leave time…"

"_No! You don't need to do that Tony. Sam and I will find Dad. Don't worry about it. Besides, that boss of yours would hunt us down if you didn't return on time."_

"I should be there. John's my dad too."

"_No one is saying he isn't. But you don't need to lose your job over this. We'll find Dad, and when we do, we'll call you and you can come and kick his ass."_

"Heh. Will do."

"_I've got to go. And Sam says 'Hi.'"_

The phone call ended. It looks like life is going to get a little more complicated. Tony sighs, and drags a hand through his locks. He'll do his part in looking for dad through the legal system, but it isn't likely to help at all. The man has so many aliases, it's a wonder he can keep any of them straight.

Why does his family have to be so messed up? Most people don't have to worry about finding their father in an arrest warrant or death certificate under the name 'John Nugent' or 'John Jagger.'

* * *

Notes: Not sure how I feel about this one. But Tony needs to know about the events, so this is what happened. Let me know what you think.

Standard Disclaimers.


	6. Breaking News

Tony had been enjoying a slice of sausage-pepperoni pizza when he saw it. Taken aback, he started chocking on the deliciousness before clearing his throat and turning up the volume on the television.

There, on the news, ZNN was reporting on a case in St. Louis. A few people had been murdered, and a girl was tortured by a man who the police found dead. They brought up a sketch of the man, and Tony's heart skipped a beat. That was Dean. _Dean. _His _brother._

But that can't be right. Dean wouldn't kill people. Or torture them. And Dean was with Sam, and Sam wouldn't just…Sam! Tony could call Sam.

Fumbling for his cell phone, it slipped from his shaking hands twice before Tony forced himself to take a calming breath. There was probably any number of reasons why the news was saying Dean was a dead murderer. He just can't think of any right now.

Dialing the number, Tony waited impatiently while the phone rang. After ringing four times, Tony was greeted with a hello.

"Mind explaining what the hell's going on?"

"_Tony! What—_

"Why is ZNN saying that Dean is dead?"

"_Oh. _Oh. _Look, don't worry, Dean is fine. We had a run in with a shape shifter; we're shagging ass even as we speak."_

Relief is a very powerful thing. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest; breathing became significantly easier as the tension drained from his posture.

"That's great. Just…lie low for a while, okay?"

"_Yeah, planning on it. And I'm sorry for not calling: you shouldn't have found out through the news."_

"Don't sweat it. It comes with the life style."

"_Right. I've got to go. We'll call you later."_

"Yeah. Bye."

Hanging up the phone, Tony picks up his pizza slice. He looks at it, before throwing it back in the box. He's just not hungry anymore.

* * *

Standard Disclaimers

Notes: Thank you to all who favorited/alerted/reviewed. If you have any comments, feel free to share them. :D


	7. Following Faith

When the doors to the elevator opened, Tony did not expect to see Sam and Dean in the bullpen. He especially did not expect to see Dean smiling charmingly at Kate and to see Kate reciprocating.

"Tony!" Sam called, and closed the ever shortening distance between them.

Gripping him tight in a man-hug, Tony can't help but notice how tall Sam is now. The last time he had seen Sam was for a brief time when the kid was 18 (not a time he really wants to remember) and before that when he was 12. They mainly keep contact via cell phone.

"You got…gigantic, Squirt-outgrew everybody."

Releasing him, Sam laughed, "Yeah, well, I told you that I would."

Tony laughed. Sam had hated being called Squirt so much during his adolescent years that one day he practically screamed at him that he would get taller than Tony and show him who the 'Squirt' really was.

"So, Tony, you never mentioned that you had brothers."

"You never asked," Tony smirked.

"Trust me Kate, if we had known that Tony had such a beautiful coworker, we'd have visited a long time ago," Dean grinned.

"Is that so," turning to Tony, she asked, "Does Abby know?"

"Know what?" Abby asked, appearing behind Tony. The girl was a sneaky as a ghost sometimes.

"Abby! These are my brothers, Sam and Dean."

Frowning, Abby smacked Tony in the arm. "How come you never told me you had brothers?"

"Ow! It just never came up Abbs!"

Shaking hands with Sam and Dean, Abby politely said, "Nice to meet you," Handing a pair of sunglasses to Tony, she said, "You left these in the lab. You're lucky I was nice enough to bring them to you."

"Thanks."

Bidding farewell, Abby left for the elevator. It was lunch time, and she had promised to eat with Ducky.

Kate grinned, "I've got my own lunch to eat. It was nice meeting you."

"You up for a bite?" Dean asked.

"Sure. I know this great p—

"If you say pizza place, I'm going to kill you."

"Hey, my city, my rules."

The walk to the nearest pizza parlor was relatively swift and uneventful.

"So, what brings you to D.C.? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you."

A war of looks seemed to be waged between Sam and Dean. Dean looked away first, so Tony figured Sam must have won.

"I had a close call," Dean started, looking into his glass of coke.

"How close?" Tony stared at Dean, trying to decipher his facial expressions.

"As in: I'm supposed to be dead close."

Tony sucked in a breath. "Why didn't you call me?"

Dean locked eyes with him. "I tried to. But when I did, all I got was your voice mail, and that's not the kind of message you just want to leave. I would have called later, but I was already better."

"What happened? How did you 'get better'?"

"We were hunting a revenant. Have to kill it with electricity. Stupid me was standing in a pool of water. Heat of the moment, I guess.

"Anyways, Sam brought me to a faith healer. And it worked. But NOT because he had any special powers, just a crazy wife who had bound a reaper to her will. But Sam and I took care of it."

Swallowing past the hard knot in his throat, Tony asked, "How long had they given you?"

"A month tops."

A month. A whole, stinking month, and Dean could be rotting in the ground. Or maybe he would have been given a hunter's funeral. Would Dad have come out for it?

"Did you call Dad?"

The down-cast look on Sam and Dean's faces was enough answer to that.

Clearing his throat, Sam said, "The point is, Dean's okay now."

"Yeah. Wish we had beer."

"You're telling me. Soon as you get off of work, we're heading to a bar," Dean declared.

It was Friday, and because a case had (remarkably) not come in, Tony was able to spend the weekend with his brothers. But by the time Monday morning rolled around, it was time to say goodbye.

"Where are you guys heading?"

"I found something that looks like a ghost in Kentucky, and by the sounds of things, it's getting pretty bad." Sam said.

"Well, be careful. Maybe next time you visit it won't be because one of us is dying."

Sam laughed, "Definitely."

After giving goodbye hugs, Tony went to the window and waited until he saw the Impala roar to life and drive off into the foggy dawn.

He really hopes everything will turn out okay.

* * *

Standard Disclaimers

Notes: I wrote this as a follow up to the episode Faith. I thought about having Tony take leave and try to write him into the events of Faith, but I didn't want to screw up what happened in that episode, and it would be too predictable. Everyone has seen Faith: why should it be rewritten? The only thing I'm sorry about is that I couldn't figure out how to fit Gibbs into this, but I think it'll be okay. He can meet them later.


	8. Revealed

"So, are you Tony DiNozzo or Tony Winchester?" Gibbs casually demanded, taking a sip of bourbon.

"What do you mean, Boss?" Tony asked cautiously.

When Tony had been asked to come over to Gibbs' place he hadn't been expecting a meeting in the basement about his origins. Frankly, he hadn't known what to expect. Maybe pizza, or steak, if he was lucky. But not an interrogation.

"When your brothers came to visit you in the hospital, I thought I recognized Dean. So I racked my brain for a few days, and then I remembered where I saw him: on the FBI's Most Wanted list.

"It turns out Dean is reported to have two brothers: a younger one named Sam and an older one named Tony. Do I need to continue?"

"Boss, I…"

Gibbs dropped a thick manila folder on the work table in front of Tony.

"Don't lie to me."

Tony and Gibbs stared eachother down for what felt like eons before Tony looked away.

Eyeing the liquor left in the bottle, Tony said, "We're going to need more bourbon."

* * *

"So, you're telling me that after your parents were killed by vampires, John Winchester took you in and raised you on the road alongside his boys. And that you wanted to fight evil from the other side, so you left the hunting life behind?"

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, "Look, Boss, if you don't believe me…"

"Oh, I believe you," Gibbs responded, getting up from his seat after knocking back the rest of his bourbon.

Tony was stunned. Did he hear that right? "What?"

"I said, DiNozzo, that I believe you." Gibbs had moved over to the skeleton of a boat, and picked up a piece of sandpaper.

"…Why?"

"Back in the 80s I had a run in with a wendigo. My unit was doing an exercise in the Montana woods when we were it wasn't for a man named Bill Harvelle, we'd all have been slaughtered. We had to tell our CO that a grizzly attacked." Gibbs delivered slowly, smoothing splinters from the wooden frame.

"And?" Tony asked after a minute.

Powder blue eyes met green, "And afterwards we drank ourselves stupid. But it made believers out of us. No amount of Jack can erase those kind of memories."

After a moment, Tony motioned towards the folder on the table. "I feel like I'm shooting myself in the foot...but what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to work on my boat."

Tony stared at Gibbs, uncertain about what that meant. He was startled when something hit his chest. Out of reflex, he caught it: sandpaper. Tony smiled, and began to work.

His secret was safe with Gibbs.

"Uh, Boss...do you go against or with the grain?"

* * *

Notes: I know this is short, but I think it adequately describes what would happen. Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/alerts. I love you guys.

Standard Disclaimers apply, as always.


	9. Soul Problem

It was two weeks and three state lines before Sam finally voiced the question on his mind. Dean was driving, singing along to Motorhead. Sam hit the power button.

"Dude, what the hell?" Both eyebrows raised, an almost offended look. Yeah, he hadn't been singing exactly on key, but Sam was hardly any better.

Ignoring the look Dean was giving him, Sam asked bluntly, "Are we going to tell him?"

"Tell who? And about what?" Sam was being really weird. It was getting on his nerves.

"Are we going to tell Tony about the deal, Dean?" Hazel eyes studied Dean's face.

Dean's usually expressive face went stoic. Jaw clenched, eyes faraway. He didn't want to talk about this. But Sam wasn't going to let it drop. Not this.

"Well?"

Pulling off the highway, Dean put the Impala in park and got out. Sam quickly followed.

"We don't tell Tony."

"Don't you think he deserves to know?" Sam asked, indignant.

"How I see it is this: in a year I'm going to Hell, Sam. If-

"You're not going to Hell. We're going to find a way out."

"That's the problem Sam! If we tell Tony, he's going to want to help. He'd quit his job at NCIS, and don't say he wouldn't, because you know he would. Tony has his own life to lead. He can't just ruin it for my sake."

"That's not your choice Dean! If you were in Tony's shoes-

"I wouldn't take no for an answer. And he wouldn't either. If we can't find a way out, and I go to Hell, Tony ruined his life for nothing."

"How do you think he'd feel if you suddenly die in a year, and he knew that he could have done something?"

"If I die in a year, it means he couldn't have done anything. And if that does happen, you don't tell him the truth. Tell him it was a hunting accident or something."

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

"It means no, Dean. I'm not going to just lie to Tony like that."

Dean swallowed and clenched and unclenched his fists. He walked around in a circle. "You don't tell him, Sam. And that's final."

Hazel met hazel, both unwilling to cede to the other. Dean broke away, and forced a grin. "It's not like it's going to come to that. Like you keep saying, Sam, we'll find a way to break my deal."

Sam sighed, releasing his tension. "Yeah."

"Now let's hit the road. The nagual isn't going to gank itself."

"Right." The matter was far from over. If he had to go around Dean to do it, he would. Tony deserved to know what was going on. Dean's will be damned.

* * *

Standard Disclaimers

Notes: Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/alerts! About this scene: I was thinking about how Tony would react to the idea of Dean going to Hell, and then I thought: would Dean even tell him? And this developed. Hope you liked-feel free to drop a comment. ^^


	10. College Football

It was a warm Sunday afternoon, and the Winchester brothers were spending it sprawled on a couch watching college football. Every time the Jayhawks lost the ball Dean would exclaim in outrage and Sam would stuff his face with pretzels. Tony would cheer. The traitor.

"I swear to God, Tony, you cheer one more time and I will throw you out of your own apartment." Dean threatened.

"I have to root for the Buckeyes; I played for them." Tony replied matter-of-factly, finishing his bottle of beer.

"I went to Stanford, and you don't see me cheering for them," Sam pointed out.

"But you didn't play for them," Tony countered.

"Whatever happened to loyalty? You were raised to be a Jayhawk fan!" Dean grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl that Sam was hogging.

"You're just mad that KU is losing."

"Well, the game isn't over yet."

The game continued with boos and cheers and an "OW!" from Tony when Dean hit him after Ohio State got two touchdowns ahead. The game was now tied up, however, and seemed to be going nowhere.

"I don't know how you do it," Dean remarked, sounding defeated.

Tony glanced to his right, "Do what?"

Dean and Tony were alone on the couch, Sam having gone to grab more beer and pretzels from the kitchen.

"Go after people all day. I mean, demons and monsters I get. People are just crazy."

Tony laughed, "What you do isn't exactly a cake walk either."

"Monsters, demons…they want destruction for destructions sake. People have the choice between good and evil. And the fact that some choose evil? It's just…crazy."

"Amen to that. But what gets me though it is that I'm helping someone. We do the same thing, Dean. You just fight what the general populace doesn't see."

"Yeah…" Dean's eyes were drawn suddenly to the television. Could it be? Was that…? Yes!

"RUN, RUN, RUN!" Dean shouted at the T.V. as a Jayhawk ran down the field, ball tucked safely to his side without a Buckeye in sight.

"Am I missing it?" Sam called alarmed, beers tucked under one arm and pretzels in the other.

"Yeah, hurry up! The Jayhawks are about to take victory!"

"No! Come on, what are you doing? You can catch him!" Tony complained. Why did the Buckeyes have to start playing lousily now?

Sam plopped down between Tony and Dean, and passed the beers with little care, eyes riveted to the screen.

"YES!" Sam and Dean cheered in unison, throwing up their arms in victory.

"NO! Why…?"

"Ha-ha! That's what you get for switching teams!" Dean laughed.

"There's always next year."

"You know who says that Tony? Losers!" Sam taunted.

"Yeah? Well loser this!" Tony grabbed Sam in a headlock and proceeded to give him a noogie.

"Hey! I thought we outgrew this!"

"Heh. All's fair in love and war Sammy!"

"You suck!" Sam kicked the coffee table out of the way and grabbed Tony around the waist and threw them both to the ground. On the way down Tony let go of Sam's head and grabbed for Dean in the vain hope of keeping himself from tumbling to the ground with Sam. All he succeeded in doing was dragging Dean into the wrestling match.

The day passed with many laughs and taunts. When Monday morning came, they promised to see eachother again soon. All in all, it was a nice vacation from the monsters that lurked both in the day and night.

* * *

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Notes: Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/alerts! This was inspired by it being Sunday, and the episode 'The Benders.' I'm not a fan of football, so please forgive any mistakes.


	11. Hospital Visit

"You have got the worst luck," Sam said from his seat next to Tony's hospital bedside.

"Pneumonic plague, seriously? Who the hell get's that?" Dean said from his position against the window.

"I guess all the bad luck you guys got from breaking those mirrors transferred to me," Tony laughed weakly.

"Not funny," Dean scolded.

"Anyway, when are they letting you out of here?" Sam asked.

"Today, after I sign myself out."

"Dude, you sure that's a good idea?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Probably not. But Ducky'll take care of me."

"Can you even walk ten feet without getting short of breath?" Sam raised his eyebrow in challenge.

"Ha-ha. I'll be fine. Now get out of my way. Need to pee," Tony made a shoeing motion at Sam as he got up and headed slowly for the bathroom. The doorway was only four feet away, and by the time he got there his chest was heaving for breath.

"Uh-huh. You can totally check yourself out AMA," Dean sarcastically commented.

"Screw you," Tony rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.

"If you fall, we're not helping you!" Sam joked.

The toilet flushed and was accompanied by the sound of the sink turning on. After it shut off, Tony exited the bathroom and returned to his bed.

"…Maybe I'll stay in another day or two," Tony was sweat drenched.

"Think of it this way—you can probably get that cute nurse to give you a sponge bath," Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tony smiled, "That'd be nice. But if what I said about the mirrors is true, I'd probably be stuck with the lady with the hairy mole."

Sam was frowning. Tony looked at him and said, "I didn't think you had a problem with crude humor."

"No, it's not that. You probably would. But…I couldn't help but think if your life would've been safer if you had stayed on the road."

Tony frowned, "Bad things happen Sam. But in all likelihood, the chances are I could be dead right now if I stayed. I mean, Dean's almost died how many times? And you both get injured every time you go on a hunt."

"But those happen in the line of fire. You have to worry about getting ancient diseases from the mail."

"It doesn't matter how dangerous our lives get. Tony's doing good things Sam. He's saved lives. Yeah, we don't have to worry about things like that…but we face death every day. What matters is that we survive to see another day," Dean interjected.

"I guess I'd feel better if one of us was with you," Sam said, looking at his interlocked hands.

"Don't worry—I have people on my six," Tony smiled with confidence.

"Heh. Yeah."

The three brothers were interrupted by a sudden light knock on the door.

"Am I interrupting something?" Gibbs asked, brown paper bag in hand.

"Nah, we were just leaving. We'll see you around Tony," Dean said, moving from his place at the window to shake Tony's foot in goodbye.

"Yeah, see ya," Tony smiled. Sam patted his arm farewell.

Sam and Dean left, knowing that Tony would be well looked after.

"Hey, Boss. What'd you bring me?" asked Tony.

"Just thought you might like some real food," Gibbs responded, taking the seat Sam had vacated and opening the paper bag, the smell of pizza permeating the air.

* * *

Notes: The foot thing is just something that my grandfather does when visiting people in the hospital. I could imagine Dean doing it, so I added it in. As always, thank you for all the lovely reviews/favorites/alerts!

Standard Disclaimer Applies


	12. First Hunt

They were in a swamp in the Louisiana bayou, humidity was through the roof, a pissed off ghost was lurking about somewhere, and to top it all off—they had forgotten to bring the freaking mosquito repellant.

Smacking the bloodsucker trying to make lunch out of him, Tony grumbled "Couldn't you have narrowed down the grave site any better Dad?"

"You're the one that wanted to come with me, boy," John replied, shifting his shotgun to one hand as he absent-mindedly scratched at some mosquito bites.

"Yeah, but I thought I'd actually get to _shoot _something…"

"You just didn't want to play nurse," John said with a half-smile. Sammy wasn't often sick, but when he was, he could be awfully needy. Right before Tony had asked to come along, Dean had lost a Rock Paper Scissors match to him.

"You got me. I just don't like being around all the sniffling, sneezing…." Tony trailed off. A few feet ahead of them was what looked like a grave-marker.

Taking the lead, Tony reached the marker before John. Kneeling down, he traced his fingers over the partially illegible inscription. Tabitha Eden.

"This her?" John questioned, ready to dig the shovel out of his duffle.

"Yeah, this is ol' Tabby."

"Good. Keep a look out while I dig."

Digging up graves wasn't fun. Tony was sweating from just being under the hot sun; he couldn't imagine how his dad could do manual labor in it. As soon as the shovel hit the wooden casket, two things happened: a dull thudding sound was emitted and it got suddenly, inexplicably cold.

"Tony!"

"I got it!" Tony fired salt rounds at the ghost of Tabitha Eden, who had appeared before the hole in the ground, ready to pull John up and away from her bones.

The ghost disappeared. Tony quickly reloaded the gun, waiting for her to reform. Meanwhile, John broke the casket open and pulled himself out of the grave.

"You salt'n'burn! I'll distract her!" John shouted, taking the gun from Tony and firing at the reformed ghost.

Tony dropped to his knees, pulling his bag in front of him and grabbing the salt and lighter fluid. Dumping the salt liberally over the skeleton, Tony moved quickly. The accelerant came next in record time. Only problem was with the lighter. It failed to ignite three times before Tony finally got it to work.

"Anthony, DUCK!"

Tony fell to the ground as the shotgun went off once more. Reigniting the lighter was easier this time. Quickly dropping it in the grave, Tony barely got out the "Fire in the hole!" before the ghost went out with a shriek.

"You okay, kiddo?" John asked, offering a hand up to Tony.

"That was awesome! I can't believe I haven't gone on a hunt before…wait until I tell Sam and Dean!"

John chuckled, shaking his head. By the time Tony would tell Sam and Dean about the hunt, Tony would have single-handedly taken on Tabitha Eden and her legion of ghostly followers.

Tony picked up the shovel, and began to put it back in the duffle.

"What do you think you're doing? You still have to fill in the hole."

"Seriously? We're in a swamp. No one's going to notice it."

"What's my rule?"

Tony sighed, "If you dig it up, you have to fill it back in."

"Good. Hop to it," John smiled, sitting down on a tree stump.

"Even though you're the one who dug it up," Tony said under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, I was just commenting on the weather."

"That's what I thought," John said with a smirk. Maybe he should take Tony more often. Having help was nice.

* * *

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Tony is 12 in this story.

I have a variety of ideas of how to deal with Tony finding out about Dean's deal. One of the ideas I am toying with is Tony quitting NCIS. I have a poll up concerning this idea, please go vote on what you would prefer!

As always, thank you for all the reviews/alerts/favorites!


	13. Six Months That Never Was

"Probie! I need you to do a favor me," Tony said as he entered the bullpen, making a beeline for McGee.

McGee looked exasperated, "No, Tony, I'm not going to hack into-

Interrupting his refusal quickly, Tony responded, "No, it's not anything like that. I need you to do a search for me."

"Okay…what for?" McGee stared at Tony, eyebrow raised.

Showing him an image of a small mouthed man with medium length brown hair, Tony responded, "It's important. I need you to run a search for him on any and all sources you can. If you get a hit, call me. And try and keep it on the down low."

"Why? What's so important-

"Just do it. Please, McGee," Tony softened, looking at McGee.

McGee was sporting a look Sammy used to get every time he was about to do something he didn't like. "Fine. But I expect some answers later."

"Thanks," Tony said, before going over to his desk and grabbing a few odds and ends from the drawers.

"Where are you going?" McGee asked.

"Got a few things I have to do. Call me when you get a hit."

Tony left the bullpen, almost knocking into the director.

"DiNozzo, aren't you supposed to be on leave?"

"Yeah, I'm on my out now; just had a few things to take care of."

Jenny looked on as Tony took his leave, forgoing the elevator for the speed of the stairs.

* * *

Exiting the building, Tony walked down two blocks before getting into the front passenger seat of a gleaming black '67 Chevy Impala.

"Well?" Sam asked as he pulled the Impala away from the curb.

"McGee's on it. If the Trickster so much as gets caught by a camera, we'll know."

"Are you sure you want to do this? I can handle the Trickster by myself."

"I'm sure. Dean's my brother too. I want to be right there with you when we make that SOB bring him back."

Hard eyes met Tony's. "There's no telling how long this will take. Are you willing to give up your life as 'Agent DiNozzo' for this?"

Jaw clenching, Tony stared back just as hard, willing Sam to see his resolve. "Yes."

"Good," Sam said, eyes returning to the road.

* * *

It has been three months. Three months of blood, violence, and disappointment. They've had four hit and misses with the Trickster, and it was starting to wear on them.

Oh, and Tony was officially on the FBI's Most Wanted List due to a hunt gone south in Alabama. Fan_fucking_tastic.

The thought of failing isn't an option that Tony can allow himself to think about. Because failing means that Tony ruined his life; he'll never get closure with the people at NCIS he came to think of as family; never tell them that he isn't this bad guy, because telling them about the things that go bump in the night would be much crueler.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Sam said as he poured lighter fluid over their discarded phones.

"Save it. As soon as we find the Trickster, none of this will matter." Tony dropped the disposable lighter on the pile.

When Sam got the call from Bobby, Tony had been dead for a month.

"You know why I'm doing this? Because you're not Bobby," Sam whispered, shoving the wooden spike through 'Bobby's' heart.

"Whoa. They always say that Dean is the twisted one, but you, Sam, take the cake. You take your remaining brother on a wild goose chase looking for me and get him killed, and then you are willing to risk killing your father figure just to get to little old me. I don't know if I should be flattered or…"

"Please. Please, just, take me back to that Tuesday."

"Why should I? There's been a lesson in all of this, Sam. How you and Dean are always trying to save each other's bacon? Dean's your weakness."

"Please. Just, bring him back."

"Oh, spare me the water works!" the Trickster responded, before a twinkle appeared in his brown eyes and he snapped his fingers.

* * *

Tony suddenly awoke with a massive headache. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brought a hand up to try an ease the pain from his temples. Images, more like memories, were flying by at warp speed.

He was dead. Or, rather, he had been dead. Feeling his chest where his heart had been ripped from, Tony was reassured to feel warm muscle.

Calendar. He needed a calendar. If he was alive again, that meant that Sam succeeded. And if Sam succeeded…Dean. Calling Dean would come first.

The phone rang five times before it was picked up.

The voice was bright and happy. "Tony! What's up? Dude, the station I'm listening to doesn't have Asia. It sucks!"

Tony laughed. And kept laughing.

"Dude, you alright? I mean, first Sam, now you…"

Regaining his composure, Tony responded, "I'm fine. More than fine. It's just…really good to hear your voice."

They talked for ten minutes before Dean threw the phone at Sam.

"Do you remember?" was the first thing out of Sam's mouth.

"Yeah," Tony said softly.

"I'm sorry. I should've—

"It doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, we can call it the "Six Months That Never Was.""

"Okay."

"We should probably get someone to go take care of those hunts we went on though."

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. You know…it was good working with you. If you ever want to get back in the game, we're here."

"Thanks Sam. But…my home is here at NCIS."

"I get that. I'll talk to you again soon, okay? We have to get going."

"Yeah. No problem."

When the phone call ended, Tony was happy to get up for work.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer(s) Apply

Notes: Well, this was my tag to Mystery Spot. I hope you liked it, and hopefully I had everybody in character. This took me forever to write.

As always, I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited. It always brings a smile to my face.


	14. Musings and a Phone Call

Tony had been furious when he found out that Dean had sold his soul. Furious, yet understanding. Because if he had been in the same situation…Tony won't lie and say he wouldn't have considered it. He just wishes that Dean would have called him.

Not being in the know sucked. When Sam went missing, Dean had called Tony after 36 hours and no leads. The phone call had been brief and to the point. It was over a week before Tony received another call, saying that they were together again and the situation was taken care of. No details, and definitely no mention of the deal that went down.

No, Tony wouldn't find out about that particular doozy until four months down the line. Dean had called him sounding broken, tired, and maybe a little drunk. The conversation had started out like the standard: how was your week? As they kept talking, Dean started talking about this hot but pesky Bella chick, and this total bitch named Ruby who keeps telling Sam that she can break Dean's deal. Oh. Wasn't supposed to say that part. But there are no take-backsies with information that important, and in about an hour Tony was up to date on the happenings in his brothers' lives.

Since then, Tony has been using every spare moment he has to try and find a way out of Dean's deal. But it's hard; it seems that every time he has a moment someone kills another naval member or marine. For a while, Tony considers quitting. He almost does. Kate's dead, and whatever they do seems to never be enough. People are still killing eachother, committing violent acts on one another for petty reasons.

Remembering the events of what Tony likes to call the "Mystery Spot SNAFU" is really what convinced him not to leave. The first few leads on the Trickster had come through the work of McGee; Sam and Tony just didn't have the resources or time to be constantly searching. There were still fuglies to be ganked after all.

The events following Alabama had shown Tony how persistent his team can be. The moment his face had appeared on national television next to the words "wanted" and "killing a family", Tony had received a call from a very displeased Gibbs. Who was even more displeased, Tony suspected, when he hung up on him. But taking the time to explain to Gibbs that the "family" he killed was actually a den of ferocious werewolves wasn't on his list of priorities. Besides, even if he told Gibbs, it's not like he could actually do anything about it: Tony and Sam's DNA was all over the place. Killing isn't exactly a clean event.

The NCIS team had nearly tracked him down twice, causing Sam to be more broody than usual. Tony doesn't like broody Sam. What he doesn't like even more was the look of betrayal in his team members' eyes as he evaded their capture. Three guns had been pointed at him but not a single one fired. If that's not an "I love you" Tony doesn't know what is.

Tony is distracted from his musings by his phone going off for the fifth time. Running a hand through his short locks, Tony pulls his cell from his pocket. It's Dean. Oh joy. While Tony could understand Dean's decision, and he had died for the sake of bringing him back during the alternate world that was 'Mystery Spot', he still wasn't very pleased with man. The two had never sat down and really discussed the matter after the initial phone call that had clued Tony in on the situation.

Tony decides to answer the phone. Usually phone calls from his brothers are, at least as of late, a matter of life and death.

"What?"

"Geez, what's got your panties in a twist?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you're going to Hell and seem to be completely fine with it."

"I thought we talked about this."

"No, you talked. I was just finally clued in."

"There was no other option." Dean's response dared Tony to say otherwise.

"Do you think Sam really wanted you to—

"It doesn't matter what Sam wants or doesn't want. He's my brother. I wasn't just going to let him die."

"What about how you felt when Dad—

"Doesn't. Matter. Sam's alive, I'm going to Hell. I was probably headed there anyway."

Tony was silent for a moment. How can you argue with a man who has such a low opinion of himself? Dean makes an ass' stubbornness seem like McGee caving in to a plan in return for the location of Abby's latest tattoo.

"How can you say that, Dean? You save lives. You put age-old restless spirits to rest. You kill demons. You're basically John Constantine."

"Wasn't he supposed to go to Hell?"

"…Yeah, but in the end he was going to go to Heaven before Satan brought him back to life," Tony started before realizing what Dean was doing, "Hey! Don't change the subject."

"You started it."

Tony silently fumed for a moment, "Don't start."

"The point is, Tony, that what's done is done. We should stop focusing on the past and look to the future."

"That's a laugh, coming from you or anyone in this family."

"Well…maybe we should start."

Tony shakes his head, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinching. "Yeah, I hear you."

"Now are we done sharing and caring? I hate this chick flick crap."

"You can barely call this a chick flick moment. Now, if this had been face to face and you had shed a tear or two…"

"Hey! If anyone would be crying it'd be you, you—

"So what did you call me for in the first place? Who's in the hospital now?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny. I actually called to ask you if you were watching the 'I Dream of Jeanie' marathon. I know how much you used to love Jeanie. Every time she said "Yes, Master" I could swear your mind went to the gutter you kinky bastard."

Tony's mind went blank. Really? Dean was calling over…'I Dream of Jeanie'? Tony couldn't hold it in. He laughed long and hard. He even had to put the phone down.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Tony picked up the phone and said, "I'll be sure to put it on. What channel?"

"TV Land, you weirdo."

An easy grin splitting his face, Tony responded, "Thanks. I…needed that."

"Yeah…well, you're welcome. I got to go. Samantha is back with the grub."

"Yeah. Talk to you later."

Hanging up the phone, Tony was glad that he had answered.

* * *

Appropriate Disclaimers Apply

Notes: Sorry about the tense shifts. I wrote this in two sittings, so I may have missed some things. As always, thanks for all the lovely reviews/favorites/alerts. I love you guys. Feel free to drop a note.

Peace. Out.


	15. A Supernatural Case

The first thing Tim registered was the pounding in his skull, like an afternoon after playing video games for 24 hours straight and running off of Red Bull. Problem was, Tim was 90 percent sure that didn't happen yesterday. No, he was pretty sure that he had been walking home from the take-out place and then-nothing.

Slowly opening his eyes, Tim realized that he was in big trouble. He was on the ground, tied to a support beam of some underground facility. Giving an experimental tug, Tim knew that there was no hope of him ever getting out on his own. Whoever had done this to him knew what they were doing.

When Tim's eyes landed on the messy pile of gooey _something_, he almost ralphed. Was that…? It almost looked like flesh. Taking deep breaths, Tim tried to calm down. Hyperventilating wouldn't help him. Thinking, Tim asked himself, "What would Gibbs do?" Tim almost laughed. Gibbs wouldn't _be_ in this situation.

"Help!"

The echoes reverberating off the walls were like cruel jeers. Wherever he was, nobody would be able to hear him. Tim could only sit there and try and come up with a plan for when (because it certainly wasn't an if) his assailant came back. Maybe he'd get lucky and the team would find him before anything happened. It's a good thing that yesterday was Sunday.

* * *

Tony walked into the bullpen and was surprised to see that McGee had beaten him. Usually Tony was the first one there, with McGee coming in with only five minutes to spare.

"What's up, McProbster?" Tony asked, putting down his backpack before taking his seat at his desk.

"Nothing, I just had to finish the report for the last case," McGee said, typing away at his computer.

"Putting off work Probie? So unlike you," Tony tsked, taking a sip from his piping hot coffee.

"I wasn't feeling well," McGee said distractedly.

"Uh-huh, sure," 'Sick, my ass,' Tony thought. McGee had been sick as a dog two weeks ago and still stayed the extra hours until his report was done. Tony had felt so sorry for the guy that he had even offered to finish it for him. McGee had pointedly said no.

"Would you just lay off? It's done now," McGee said sharply, green eyes cutting over to Tony. 'If looks could kill,' Tony silently whistled.

"Sorry," Tony offered. What had McGee's panties in a twist? He was being so…un-McGee.

Kate took that moment to walk in, coffee and cruller in hand.

"Running a little late, Kate?"

Tony was met with a frazzled look. At least that was normal.

* * *

Crime scene. If what Ducky said was correct (and he almost always was) someone had decided to kill a petty officer around 0200 hours. It had been a home invasion; the once beautiful young officer had been tied to her dining chair and tortured for hours before she bled to death.

It was sickening, what people could do to eachother. This crime was sadistic, and by the lack of signs of forced entry, done by someone she trusted enough to let into her house.

Snapping photo after photo, Tony couldn't wait to catch the guy. He almost wished it was something supernatural that had done it. Then the crime, although still horrible, would make sense. Evil creatures do evil things. But humans are just as capable, if not more, of producing great violence. Tony silently promised Petty Officer Daniels that justice would be done.

"Hey, Tony! What do you make of this?" Kate motioned to a spot on the violet carpet.

On the carpet was what could only be described as a bloody piece of flesh. Taking a quick picture, Tony grimaced as he crouched down and delicately picked it up with a gloved hand.

"Looks like Petty Officer Daniels fought hard; our creep-of-the-week is missing an ear," Tony said, looking up at Kate from his crouched position.

* * *

This case was seriously bothering him. An ear isn't easily ripped off. Even if the ripping is being done by a strong, adrenaline-aided woman.

Tony rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, before dragging his hands through his hair. Something just wasn't adding up. Granted, it was the first night, but usually they had some suspect. Gibbs and Tony had interviewed a couple of people, but they just didn't seem to be the type. Maybe going through the crime scene photos again would help.

Clicking the folder of the current case on his desktop, Tony started to numbly go through the pictures. Almost skipping a picture of McGee and Kate that Tony had taken in the car ride to the case, Tony paused. McGee had been looking out the window when the picture was taken, but what little of his eyes that could be seen were whited out. A weird camera flare…but if it was a camera flare, shouldn't it have done the same thing to Kate's eyes?

A feeling of dread washed over Tony as he frantically searched for another picture of McGee. Damn! Tony hit his keyboard out of frustration when he realized that there weren't any more.

'Back up a minute, Tony. It could be nothing. Yeah, McGoogle has been acting a little strangely, what with the coming in early, the not gagging at the scene, blowing off Abby when we got back to base…'

Late hours at the office meant that no one else was there. 2200 hours…his brothers should still be awake. Pulling out his cellphone, Tony quickly dialed Sam.

Bring. Bring. Bri-

"Hello?"

"Sam, do you have a minute?"

"Yeah, give me a sec. It's a little loud in here."

"Hustling some poor schmuck out of his money?"

Sam laughed, "Got to pay for gas and crappy diner food somehow. What's up?"

"I think I might have something supernatural on my hands," Tony said quietly, keeping a vigilant eye out for anyone who might walk in. It was doubtful, but it could still happen.

"What are the signs?" Sam asked, interest piqued.

"I've got a gooey ripped off ear and a camera flare."

"Not much to go off of, but Dean and I can be out there in a day or two—

"No, no. That's not necessary—Boss wouldn't be too happy if you guys started interfering in the case. I can handle it. Do you have any ideas about what could be going on?"

"Well, I guess I'd have to say a shape shifter."

"Damn. I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"They can be a major pain. Are you sure you don't want us to come? These things change costume like every day is Halloween."

"I know who it's pretending to be. If I'm not too late, I can stop it tonight," Tony got up from his desk, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the elevator.

"Oh, really? Who?"

"Yeah. He's pretending to be my partner, Timothy McGee."

* * *

Tim awoke to water being poured onto his face. Jerking away, Tim was shocked to see his own face staring down at him wearing an unfamiliar, sinister smile.

"What the—

"'Bout time you woke up. You know, you're a very heavy sleeper. And boring. Very, very boring. Do you know what's fun though? Working on the very crime scene you made."

"What?"

"You're going to be serving a life sentence or maybe even have the death penalty by the time I'm done with you. Your coworkers at first won't believe that you did it—that you must've been framed. But the evidence will keep stacking against you, and when a witness—me—reports seeing you leave Kate's apartment tomorrow night, right after her reported time of death, then there won't be any denying it anymore. They'll have to arrest you on the spot. Later you'll escape, leaving a trail of evidence leading to here. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination. I bet they kill you though, when they catch you with another would-be victim."

Tim swallowed a few times, "Why are you doing this?"

"Isn't it obvious? Because it's fun. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work before I'm late."

* * *

Tony should have expected that not-McGee wouldn't have been at Probie's apartment. He had spent the entire night trying to figure out where he would have gone, searching through sewers and vacant warehouses but coming up with nada. He'd simply have to tail the imposter after work.

Another body hadn't turned up, but that didn't mean the imposter hadn't killed again. The only way NCIS hears about a crime is if the victim was a marine or navy member. For the sake of the innocent, Tony hoped that not-McGee hadn't killed again.

The day had gone by quickly, with no leads. Which makes sense if Tony's theory was correct, which he was sure of now. McGee had been acting even weirder today, eyeing Kate in a way that made Tony want to pull out his silver bullet loaded gun then and there.

Tailing the shifter was going easy, and when he parked in front of Kate's building Tony had to suppress the urge to start firing. If he wanted to find out where the bastard was keeping McGee, Tony had to keep the thing alive.

Tony took the stairs two at a time as the shifter took the elevator up. Glancing at the elevator, Tony still had time enough to get into Kate's apartment before the shifter.

Tony quickly knocked on the door and was relieved when Kate answered quickly. Pushing his way in, Tony started to explain at a rapid pace.

"McGee's going to knock on the door any second, but it's not him. He's our killer, but trust me when I say it's not McGee."

"Tony! What are you—

There was a knock on the door. Kate glanced toward it, then back to Tony who mouthed 'Trust me.' Kate nodded slowly, and then answered.

"Can I help you Tim?"

"Yeah, I was wondering if I could talk to you about the case."

"Sure, why don't you come in?" Kate motioned him in.

McGee walked in slowly, Kate following him. Kate looked for Tony, but he was nowhere to be seen. If this was a prank…

"You know, Kate…I've been thinking about this since last night," McGee's eyes became almost reptilian like before he made a move to attack her. A loud cracking sound filled the room as Tony emerged from his hiding spot, gun freshly fired.

Tim was hit in the shoulder, the wound smoking. He screamed inhumanly, and turned toward and jumped out of the window in the living room.

"What the hell was that?" Kate freaked.

"Shape shifter. I'll explain everything later—go to Gibbs' place," Tony responded over his shoulder as he headed out the door and for the stairs.

* * *

The blood trail was easy to follow. The shifter was moving fast, not even bothering to shed his disguise. This was bad news for McGee—it meant the shifter was planning on getting to him as soon as possible. Tony would just have to be quicker than it.

Up ahead was a wider chamber in the sewer lines, and Tony thought he heard voices. Tony hurried, and could see a figure standing in the opening, blocking the light.

"Freeze!" he called. Stupid, Tony admonished himself, supernatural fuglies don't stop or halter at the voice of the law.

Tony fired twice in rapid succession. Not-McGee fell to the ground, dead. Tony had been sure to aim for the heart.

"McGee, you alright?"

"Yeah," Tim breathed, disturbed at seeing his image dead on the ground, "Yeah, I'm alright. What the hell was that?"

"Shifter. I'll explain when we get to Gibbs'," Tony responded, taking out his belt-knife and cutting McGee free.

* * *

The days following the shifter event were intense. McGee and Kate hadn't taken to the idea of the supernatural well, but couldn't deny the fact that it existed. Gibbs hadn't been happy that Tony had been quiet about his suspicions, or that the Petty Officer's family would never get closure.

In the end, Sam and Dean had swung by, unable to resist coming. Together, the three Winchester's taught the Gibbs team how to be 'Supernaturally Safe' as Dean put it.

It had been one of the more interesting weeks.

Now, Tony found himself at McGee's sharing a pizza and case of beer.

"So, how long have you known about all of this?" McGee asked.

"All of my life. I was raised in it."

"Does it get better?" Tim asked, staring at his hands.

"Does what get better, Probie?" Tony asked, taking a swig of beer.

Looking up, Tim clarified, "Does…do the nightmares get better?"

Clapping a hand on to Tim's shoulder Tony said, "Yeah, yeah, they do."

"Thanks," Tim smiled weakly.

"Don't sweat it Tim. Now let's kick back, drink some beer, and enjoy the game."

"Sounds great," Tim smiled, grabbing a slice of pizza. He saw Tony staring to move his legs, "But don't even think of putting your feet on the coffee table."

* * *

Standard Disclaimers

Notes: Time and inspiration are two commodities that are hard to come by. The stars aligned today however: I had plenty of time due to a snow day and was lucky enough that my muse was talking to me. :)

This was actually my first attempt at a case-fic. I hope I did it justice.

As always, thanks for every review, alert, or favorite. It means the world to me. Feel free to drop a note anytime.

Peace. Out.


	16. Surprise

Notes: Finally had some inspiration. I love you all.

Standard Disclaimers Apply

* * *

Tony stretched and yawned. The day had been very tasking, and he was looking forward to getting some much deserved sleep. That was, after downing a few beers and watching the highlights from the game he missed last week.

Entering his apartment, Tony quickly hung up his jacket and went to his room to change. Walking towards the refrigerator, he noticed the red light on the answering machine flashing. Pressing the 'play' button, Tony listened with half an ear as he got a beer from the fridge.

"Mr. DiNozzo, your rent is over—

Blah, blah, blah. If he had been home at any time during the past week it would've been paid. They'll get their money in the morning.

"Tony. This is Sam. We need to talk."

Well, that was interesting. After Dean's…death, Sam had went off the deep end. Tony and Bobby had fought with him about how to take care of the remains, but Sam wouldn't hear of it. The night before they buried Dean, Sam tried to make a deal, but the demon wouldn't hear of it. He even became infuriated when Tony wouldn't try to make a deal. Tony tried to get across to Sam that this wasn't Ground Hog's Day this time. That Dean was dead and that they would have to accept it. Sam hadn't spoken to Tony since then.

Tony grabbed the phone and fiddled with it. Cryptic messages…Sam was very much John Winchester's son.

About to dial in the number Bobby had given him (Sam had changed it last month), he was interrupted by the buzzing sound of someone on the ground floor trying to call him. Tony put down the phone and glanced at his watch as he padded over to the buzzer. 9PM, a little late for someone to be asking for him.

"Yeah?" Tony answered, pressing the button.

"It's Sam. Can I come up?"

Oh ho ho ho. Speak of the devil. Tony pressed the button that opens the door to the lobby of the apartment building.

It wasn't long before there was a knock on the door.

"It's open!" Tony shouted from his seat on the couch.

"You know, I'm only dead four months and both of my brothers have changed their phone numbers. What's with that?"

Tony was up in a flash and reaching for his silver coated belt-knife.

Before he could lunge at Dean, Sam shouted, "It's him!"

Tony felt like his heart was going to beat right through his chest. Standing before him was his living, breathing, and honest-to-God brother. The one who died four months ago. His knife fell from his hand and he found his arms automatically wrapping around Dean, who had grabbed him in a fierce embrace. Tears threatened to fall, but Tony didn't care.

Stepping back, he quickly palmed his eyes, "How?" was the million dollar question.

"An angel, dude. Think tax accountant with wings."

Tony let out a shaky laugh, "This calls for the hard stuff."

* * *

Angels. Who knew? Sam and Dean didn't know much about what was going on yet, but Tony was pretty sure the world was about to go to pot if angels were getting into the mix.

Watching his brothers drive off was hard. Not for the first, or certainly the last time, Tony wished that he was going with them. The not knowing what fate had in store for his brothers was maddening. If he was there with them, he might be able to help. Or get in the way. But he'd be there.

But he can't. This…this story was Sam and Dean's. It didn't call for him. If the world needed saving, his brothers would be the ones to do it. It doesn't mean he has to like it though.

Maybe he'd call in today. Heavy revelations like these call for getting plastered.


	17. Swan Song

Tony wasn't surprised to see a video message from Sam in his inbox that morning. The world was literally a few steps away from being Hell on Earth, and from the strained phone calls and one face-to-face they had, Tony could tell that the end was coming.

Tony pressed play. The video was a little grainy, but not too bad for being shot from a webcam. Sam was sitting down on the edge of a bed, his face appearing gray from poor lighting.

"As you already know, we're in some serious shit," Sam glanced away from the camera, distracted by something off-screen, but quickly returned his attention to the screen.

"In a couple of hours…all of this will be over, hopefully. I have a plan. I haven't told Dean yet, but…" Sam trailed off, but then a resolved look filled his eyes, "I need you to do something for me Tony. Best case scenario, after tonight Lucifer will be back in the Pit. But so will I."

Tony's eyes widened, and he quickly paused the video to take in that nugget of information. What the hell was Sam thinking? How is that 'best case scenario'? Taking a deep breath and wishing that this was a face-to-face so he could give Sam the proper reaming he deserved, Tony resumed the video.

Sam spoke quicker now, "I know what you're probably thinking, but…it has to be this way. What I need you to do is make sure Dean doesn't try to break me out. Make him come live with you, or with Lisa and Ben.

"Just get him away from this life. And don't you dare try and bring me back either. Be the sensible older brother you've always been. I'm counting on you.

"Now…worst case scenario, Lucifer and Michael are going to duke it out and destroy the Earth. So, go out and enjoy tonight. It…might be your last.

"I love you Tony. Over and out."

With that, the video ended. Tony swallowed, the back of his throat burning. He blinked a few times, before getting up and lashing out at the innocent sofa.

Frustration vented, Tony fell onto the abused sofa in exhaustion. How could Sam ask that of him? Why should his brothers be responsible for the fate of the world? Tonight…tonight in all likelihood he would lose Sam and Dean forever.

Hours past, without Tony moving an inch. Either the world was going to end or he would be getting a phone call. Tony would happily (well, happily wasn't the right word) sit by the phone until the end of time if that was what it took.

The phone rang, and with the heaviest of hearts, Tony answered the phone.

"Sammy's gone."

Part of Tony wished that the world had ended.

* * *

Notes: The muse is back! I'm sorry for the long hiatus. As always, I love all of the reviews/alerts/favorites that I get. You guys are the best. Please drop a note on your way out. :)

Standard Disclaimer(s) apply


	18. Parody with Spoilers

Notes: **Spoilers for season six of Supernatural.** This is a piece of pure, unadulterated crack. It's quite...special. P.S. It is not real. It's just a spectacular idea my sister, cousin, and I came up with the other day, and it demanded to be written. I didn't want to publish it as a separate story so...feel free to ignore.

Standard Disclaimer(s)

* * *

"Boss, I could really use some leave time…" Tony started, but paused when Gibbs glanced over.

"What for, DiNozzo?"

"You see, it's kind of a Winchester issue…"

"Spit it out."

Tony sighed, "It seems Dean's friend Castiel is 'being a douche' and declared himself the 'new God'. Naturally, we have to fight him."

Blue eyes steeled, "Grab your gear."

"Wha—

"I said, DiNozzo, grab your gear," Gibbs said slowly, as if talking to a child.

Tony blinked, but complied. The next thing he knew, he was standing in a field next to his brothers with the power-tripping Castiel monologuing in front of them.

"As I have said before, I am the new God! I spared your lives on merely a whim—

_SMACK!_

Three pairs of eyes widened as all the souls were sent flying out of Castiel. Standing next to the angel was Gibbs, hand still extended from head-slapping Castiel.

Tears filled dark eyes as Castiel fell to his knees, "Father!"

Three hours later and one long explanation, it was revealed that Gibbs was in fact God, and had merely chosen to live human lives for the past two millennia. After being told of Castiel's transgression, he simply couldn't sit in the stands anymore.

"Dude, you've been working for God," Dean told Tony.

"I always suspected He had superpowers, but this? This takes the cake."

Sam approached Gibbs, "So what are You going to do now?"

"My cover's blown, so I think I might go visit the kids, release your brother from Hell, and go talk to Luci and Mikey. After that…I haven't played God for a while. Maybe I'll make another version of Earth where none of this happens."

"You can do that?"

Gibbs looked over at Sam, face asking "Did you really just ask that?" Sam laughed sheepishly in response.

"It's probably best that I go now, before Dean remembers that he's mad at Me."

"Yeah, that'd probably be best. What about Your life as Gibbs?"

"I'll go back to it, when I have time. That's the beauty part of being Creator."

And with that, Gibbs turned on his heel, disappearing into the ether.


	19. The Question of Fatherhood

"Are you sure Ben is not Dean's kid?" Tony asked for the third time that day. He was "helping" Lisa make chicken salad sandwiches for lunch, while watching Dean and Ben play catch through the kitchen window.

"I'm _sure_, Tony."

"How sure?" The kid could almost pass for a younger version of Dean.

"Pretty sure!"

"Aha!" Tony said, jumping on it, "You said pretty sure! Which means, you don't know and you're just guessing."

Lisa sighed, "Does it really matter? I raised Ben by myself for most of his life. What good does knowing who his biological father is? Blood is just blood; it's how you feel that makes you family."

"Then by what you just said, Dean is Ben's dad."

Lisa smiled sadly as she looked out the window at her two favorite boys. Dean had the ball in his hand, showing Ben a better way to hold his fingers.

"For now," she said.

"You don't think he'll stay?"

"I think he'll try. He's made some real progress in the past five months. It's just…as much as I hate to say it, I don't think he's done yet. I don't know what it will be, but something will call him away from here."

Tony frowned. He had that same feeling. The Winchester's had always led complicated lives. It seemed too good to be true that Sam's sacrifice would end it all; that Dean could now simply rest and live his life.

Dean's head popped in through the back door, "You guys done yet?"

"Yes, we're almost done!" Lisa laughed at his eagerness.

"Good, and don't forget the pie!"

Tony said, "I'll grab the pie so Dean doesn't have a conniption fit; you good carrying the sandwiches and lemonade?"

Lisa nodded, and they headed outside to the picnic table where Ben and Dean were waiting.

"Go get the cups for your mom," Dean told Ben.

Ben pulled a face, but got up regardless to do what he was told.

As they happily ate their lunch, Tony couldn't help but hope that everything would turn out alright.

* * *

Notes: Thank you for all of the wonderful feedback. I enjoy every review/favorite/alert that I receive. Feel free to drop a note! Oh, and as always, standard disclaimers apply.


	20. Stanford

Notes: Longest story ever. I hope you enjoy it. As always, thanks for all the reviews/favorites/alerts. They mean the world to me. Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

When I went to bed that night, I expected to wake up to a normal day. I'd jog a couple miles, drink ungodly amounts of coffee, and start working the city beat. Maybe I'd run down a few bad guys, if I was lucky. More likely I'd be called to deal with a noise disturbance or domestic dispute.

Instead, I get a call at 0100 hours.

Blearily, I force open my eyes as a jazz tone blares to life. My phone is resting on the desk on the other side of the room. Knowing that it could be important, I roll myself out of bed and nearly fall to the floor as I do so.

I fumble in the darkness and stub my toe on the desk chair as a reward. Hissing in pain, I grab for my phone. Just as I do so, the sound of jazz stops. I let out a groan, and am about to see who called when the phone starts ringing again. A frown crosses my face as I answer it. To call back so quickly must mean it's really important.

"Hello?"

"I'm fifty miles north of Baltimore at a Denny's. Come pick me up."

It's Sam. His voice is hard and sharp, as if he's trying to hold something back.

"Okay, I'll be there in an hour," I say slowly. I'm concerned at the 'me' part. Shouldn't he be with Dad and Dean?

"Thanks," there is a slight hitch in his voice, "bye."

There's a knot forming in my stomach as I flip the phone shut. My first thoughts are that a hunt has gone wrong. But as I get dressed, I find myself nixing the idea. Sam would have started the conversation differently if someone was hurt or missing.

The next moments are a blur as I quickly get to my car and head for the interstate. Soon, I'm blazing down the road at 90 miles per hour while trying to figure out what was wrong with Sam.

I haven't really had time to spend much time with my family lately. Sure, they come collect me every now and then when I have a break, but because I have a paying job I can't really move like the wind anymore. We do talk on the phone every week though.

I'm trying to think back on the conversations I've had with Sam lately. He's told me about a few hunts, expressed his anger at being in the middle of his graduating class due to his wonky transcripts and credits transferring differently, told me he's been fighting with Dad more, and…and suddenly it dawns on me of what this could be about. Two weeks ago he found out he was accepted to Stanford.

Everything seems to fall into place now. The knot in my stomach tightens, and I pull into Denny's. I glance at the clock and find that I made it in a half hour.

With a sense of dread, I get out and lock the car. All that's left to do is find Sam. I enter the small, 24-hour Denny's, triggering the tinkling of a bell. The hostess is about to try and seat me, but I wave her off as I notice the unmistakable form of my Sasquatch-sized little brother.

I walk over to him and try to break the ice with a joke. "Is this seat taken?"

God, Sam's a sight for sore eyes. His hair is as girly as it has always been, and even as tired and drained as he must be, he still flashes dimples when he smiles at me.

"Thanks for coming, Tony."

"It's no problem. Now, tell me what's up," I get right to the point as I slide into the red vinyl seat across from Sam.

We're interrupted by a waitress approaching the booth before Sam can say anything. I quickly order a coffee, and before long she has left and returned with the steaming cup of caffeine.

I fix my eyes on Sam, silently telling him to begin.

"I finally told Dad my college plans."

I'm silent as I absorb this piece of information. "And?"

"And we fought. Then Dad issued an ultimatum."

Sam is stabbing at a rubbery looking pancake; anything to avoid looking at me as he tells his story.

"And what did he say, exactly?" I ask as I gently still his prodding with my hand. Sam finally looks me in the eye, and what he says next leaves me cold.

"He said, 'Son, if you walk out that door, don't you ever come back.' So, I grabbed my duffel and left Dodge."

"Where was Dean during all of this?"

"Dean was there for the whole fight. He ran after me. Tried to tell me that Dad didn't mean it, that he would talk to him. I told him we both know that Dad meant exactly what he said."

We're both silent as we take in the gravity of what happened. Finally, I ask, "What happened next?"

"I hot-wired a car. Drove thirty miles before ditching it and borrowed another and drove to the next town. I then rode a bus here, and called you."

I bring a hand up to my tired face and rub my eyes. When I told Dad I was leaving for college, he was upset but accepted it. But things have always been different between Dad and Sam. Dad's always been more protective and worried about Sam. Although I don't know a lot of the details, it probably all stems from the nursery fire that triggered John Winchester's (and by extension, his sons') quest for revenge. It isn't fair, but Dad probably feels that Sam, above everyone, should have the drive to hunt down the Yellow Eyed Demon.

"What do you want to do now?" I ask, because the ball is in Sam's court. Only he can decide what is going to happen from here on out. Well, him and Dad, but Dad's a stubborn SOB who isn't going to change his mind.

"I'm going to hitch-hike my way up to Palo Alto. I'll work there before school starts and live in a hotel. I have a full ride, so once school starts I'm all set."

"Hitch-hike, huh?" I finally take a sip of my coffee. It's burnt, but drinkable.

"I can't expect you to take a break from work to drive me there. And Dean…he's not too happy with me right now. He'll try to fix things between me and Dad, but when he realizes it's useless…I'm not going to ask him to take me to Stanford."

"While I can't take you personally, I can take you to an airport. And you can stay with me until move-in day. You don't need to leave for Cali right away."

Sam gives a wry grin, and I know that he's going to refuse. I try not to let the disappointment show.

"Thanks, Tony, but I need to do this on my own."

"At least let me take you to an airport. Don't want my little brother becoming eye-candy for a trucker, now do i?" I lightly joke.

It was a lame joke, but Sam laughs anyway. God, I love this kid.

"Okay," he agrees.

We finish our coffee and pay before leaving. The return trip home seems a lot longer. Sam falls asleep in the passenger seat. He's always been able to conk out in a car.

When we arrive at my apartment building, I nudge Sam awake. He drooled a little, and I spend the elevator ride up the room teasing him.

I unlock the door only to find Dean sitting on my couch, nursing a beer.

"Thought you'd come here," he greets Sam.

Sam swallows and takes a seat on the reclining chair I pulled out of a dumpster. I head for the kitchen nook to reheat some leftovers.

"So, what'd Dad say?" Sam asks, already knowing the answer.

Dean is silent and his jaw is clenched tight. He finally replies, "Dad's a stubborn SOB; kind of like you."

Sam snorts, "Then you know there's nothing you can say that will make me stay."

"I'm not even going to ask you to. You want a normal, apple pie lifestyle. I'm not going to get in the way of that."

Sam frowns, "That doesn't mean I don't want you in my life, Dean."

"What do you think I am, stupid? Of course I know that. You couldn't get rid of me even if you wanted to. We've already been through this with Tony. I know how this is going to work. It'll just be a bit before Dad gets his head out of his ass."

By the end of the conversation, I've joined Dean on the couch. I lay a steaming pile of pizza on the coffee table.

"To Sam's new life," I toast as I take a slice of pizza.

"Here, here!" Dean responds, grabbing a slice.

Sam laughs, and joins in the early morning gorging.

We don't know what's in store for tomorrow (or rather, later today), but we'll take comfort in that we'll always be there for one another.


End file.
